


Now I Am Under

by Luka z Rivii (wayward_dream)



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Domestic dispute, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, angery geralt, but fluffy happy ending i promise, door slamming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:36:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23440561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_dream/pseuds/Luka%20z%20Rivii
Summary: Geralt loses his temper.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 92





	Now I Am Under

Geralt was tired. He was tired, and he ached.

And you wouldn't. Stop. Talking.

Normally he didn't mind. But it had been a long day with a lot of screaming and arguing and he was past the point of sensory overload he could usually handle. He just wanted to divest himself of his armor and accoutrements and have some peace and quiet.

"....would probably be best, don't you think Geralt? …… Geralt? Geralt, are listening?"

Geralt grunted, sitting down to unlace his shoes. He knew he was bristling as you slid to sit next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

You seemed to notice his hypersensitivity, because you lowered your voice, for which he was grateful.

"I was saying," you murmured softly, "that my mother has noticed that I'm enamored, and she wants to meet you."

Geralt felt every single one of his muscles go rigid. He slid away from your touch, stomach twisting like a pit of vipers. "No."

You raised your hands appeasingly as Geralt wrestled with the straps of his armor. "I know it makes you nervous, but it's my mother, Geralt, so long as I'm happy I don't think she'll care--"

Geralt spun to face you, his voice almost snarl. "Care about what? That you're being courted by a mutant, a freak? That you're being bedded by a monster who can never give you a child, so she'll have no heirs?"

"Geralt….."

"That you're settling for a man who will never be a steady presence in your life, always coming and going and never providing for you?"

Geralt saw your face pinch, knew you hated hearing him speak like that. You'd told him many times that what you had with him was enough. He knew he wasn't being fair.

Tired and overwrought, he didn't care.

"Tell me, Y/N, what is it that she won't care about?" he demanded. He hated the sadness curling through your scent.

"We aren't some pompous nobles, Geralt, none of that matters. She'll only care that you make me happy."

Geralt barked a laugh. "You can be so naive."

Your scent morphed, hurt joining sadness and making his stomach turn. 

You stood, approaching him and helping him undo the straps he'd given up on, helping him slide out of his overshirt and then resting your hands on his arms, looking up at him with furrowed brows.

"Why are you saying these things?" you asked quietly. "Geralt, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," Geralt muttered, eyes sliding away from yours as he shrugged out from under your touch.

"Geralt, please talk to me--"

"I said nothing!" he shouted as he spun around, stalking past you to shove his belongings in his backpack. He could smell your unease, hear your heart starting to pound.

"Geralt? Where are you going? Please don't leave."

"I need space. And quiet," he snapped, grabbing the door and wrenching it open so hard that it slammed against the wall. He heard you suck in a breath, caught the acidic smell of your fear before he stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and rubbing a hand over his face. "Fuck."

On the other side of the door, he heard you move to the bed and very quietly start to cry.

* * *

You were laying on your bed, hugging a pillow and trying to understand, when a quiet knock came some time later.

You didn't answer, only sniffled and buried your face in the pillow. There's only one person it could be, anyways.

The door clicked open quietly. You didn't look up.

After a few moments there was a soft clink and the light scent of your favorite tea reached you, coaxing you to raise your face. Geralt knelt next to the bed, moonlight from your window illuminating his face eerily.

"I'm sorry," he spoke quietly. You sniffled and slowly sat up, swinging your legs down so your feet rested on the floor. You held out your arms to Geralt. He shuffled over, settling between your legs and sliding his arms around your waist as you held him to you. Your breaths hitched and you cried a bit more, clutching him to you as your tears spilled into his hair.

"I don't want you to be afraid of me," he said. There was agony in his liquid gold eyes and a few more pieces of your heart broke. You stroked your thumb along his jaw gently.

"I'm not."

"But earlier…..You….when I….I could smell it," he muttered. He ducked down, burying his face against your stomach. You stroked his hair gently.

"I wasn't afraid you would hurt me, Geralt. No matter how anxious or angry you get, I know you would never harm me."

"Then what--"

"I thought you were going to leave."

Geralt went very still in your arms. "If you…..if you wanted me to leave, I would understand."

You shook your head vehemently, but he still had his face pressed into your nightshirt. You could feel his hot breath through the fabric. "I thought I had pushed for too much from you….I was terrified I was going to lose you, Geralt." Your voice trembled and his arms tightened around you.

"Forgive me," he pleaded.

You tugged on his hair lightly, coaxing him to pull back a bit. Cupping his jaw, you tilted his face gently so his eyes met yours.

"I already have," you whispered. He surged up to kiss you, drawing you into his arms. You held his face and closed your eyes, desperately glad to still have the privilege of holding him in your arms.

When he finally pulled back, he brushed your tears away with his thumbs. Watched your face carefully. "You want me to stay?"

Leaning into his touch,you nodded. "Always."

He moved to sit by you, handing you the cup of tea he'd brought. You took a grateful sip and hummed softly, pleased he'd remembered to put in a bit of honey.

His arm slid around you and you curled against his side, pleased he was still here. He sighed gustily. "I guess I will have to meet your mother after all, then," he murmured.

You giggled a bit, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. "You've faced down how many monsters, but my mother makes you apprehensive?"

"I know how to handle monsters. I don't think those methods will work with her. …..unless--?"

"Geralt!"

"Kidding," he smirked. Pressed a light kiss to your forehead. You smacked his arm.

"You're not funny," you told him.

He suddenly rolled, pinning you to the bed under him. In the moonlight his hair was like spun silver, and his teeth gleamed when he grinned wolfishly down at you. "I'm a little funny," he said, holding your wrists lightly.

You pouted up at him. "Nope. Absolutely not."

"Oh really?" He shifted both of your wrists above your head and held them in one hand. "Then why are you laughing?"

"Wh--I'm not--hey! Hey Geralt, nononono--" You cut off with a squeal as his fingers slipped under your nightshirt, devolving into a fit of giggles as they tickled your ribcage. You bucked under him but he held you easily, relentless as you laughed.

"Well?"

"You're funny! You're funny!" you wheezed, and his hands stilled as he looked at you smugly.

"That's what I thought." You huffed and opened your mouth but he leaned down to silence you with a kiss, slow and tender as he released your wrists to slide his fingers through your hair and hold the back of your neck. You sighed dreamily, reaching up to twist your fingers into his hair. He pulled back and smiled softly down at you. Your heart squeezed. 

You smacked his chest tightly. "Come on, you bully. I'm tired, and I know you are too."

Rather than answer, Geralt flopped so he was on his side, drawing you into his arms. You snuggled up to his chest, laying your hand over his heart so you could feel its steady beating.

"Thank you for staying," you murmured, closing your eyes. You felt his heart thud under your fingers.

"Thanks for keeping me," he whispered.

A tiny smile curled your lips. "I love you."

A quiet hum. "And I, you."

_ "Geralt." _

He chuckled. "I love you, Y/N. Now go to sleep."

Satisfied, you settled down once more. "Good night."

"Sweet dreams, dove."


End file.
